Where the Fault Lies
by nickletastic
Summary: Someone watches her from the shadows. He notices every emotion and every movement that she makes. He understands her pain and wishes that she could stop hating him for one moment. In that moment, he will show her exactly where the fault lies. RR.
1. Chapter One

Where the Fault Lies

Chapter One

Mystress Fate

_**Disclaimer**: This is not mine. Is property of J.K. Rowling. _

* * *

The first three months back at Hogwarts for her seventh year was a hell on Earth for Hermione. She never thought that school would actually be the bane of her existence. Seventh year wasn't supposed to be like this. It was supposed to be the three of them, together, laughing and having a great time, despite the horrendous battle that they had endured that summer. 

But it wasn't at all like it was _supposed _to be. Harry was with the Ministry, as per the Minister's orders, helping to rid the wizarding world of the errant Death Eaters. Ginny was a year younger and not really keen on dealing with Hermione at the moment. And…and…-and Ron was dead. Hermione was left to her own devices at Hogwarts. She was left with her own regrets and dreams and despair.

Ron was dead.

The phrase resounded in her mind as she walked the long route to Potions class.

_Ron was dead. Ron was dead. Ron was dead. Ron was dead. Ron was dead. Ron was dead. _

She didn't want to run into any of her classmates who would want to offer some sort of sympathy. She didn't want or need it at the moment. She was trying to figure things out on her own.

Ron was dead and it was all her fault. No matter how people said that she wasn't to blame, that it wasn't her responsibility and that she shouldn't blame herself, Hermione knew better. It was all her FAULT! If Ron had never of seen her in danger with Lucius, if she had never called for help…if, if, if.

They'd all pretty much lasted to the majority of the Last Battle without any major injuries or a high death toll. Then, Malfoy's father had snuck up on her while she was surveying the carnage with a look of disgust and had shot at her the killing curse. Ron, being the wonderful man that he was, jumped in front of her, and taken to blow to himself. He'd died in her arms because he had tried to protect her. She'd immediately looked at Lucius with venom in her eyes, and cursed him to oblivion. That was the only time during the whole battle that she had ever had to kill someone and was satisfied at doing it. She had been heartbroken.

Ron had died because of her.

Guilt and love rolled in her stomach as a painful reminder of her loss. She'd only just realized her feelings for him and never got to tell him. He was her first serious boyfriend. Her first one true love. The first person she'd ever made love with. And he was gone.

She sat down wearily at her desk in Potions, not really paying mind to the teenagers and they entered with boisterous conversation and chatter. It didn't matter to her who sat by her now. Pulling out her notebooks, color-coded and numbered, and heaving a sigh of resignation, Hermione readied herself for her first double Potions with the Slytherins.

Professor Dimwalt, Snape's replacement, who couldn't be called better to any extent, had an entrance that had been deemed grander than that of Snape. His hair was a dull, bland brown and was unkempt to say the least. It reached to his shoulders and was as frazzled as Snape's had been greasy. He had piggish features and he often snorted when laughing at one of his own jokes. Though he had once seemed quite the charming fellow, an easy teacher to please, he showed his authority with five detentions his first time teaching. As he made his way from the classroom entrance to his desk, every book in his wake snapped open to the desired page. He was secretly called Dimwit by most of the student population.

"Healing," he began dramatically, and not without his usual sneer, "is especially important in these times of death and dismemberment. The next section project will be in sync with the next four Healing Chapters on page 548 of your Potions book. I will pair you together in groups of four. You will each pick a potion from one of the chapters and complete the following tasks. One will- Miss Granger, why aren't you writing this down?"

Like his predecessor, Professor Dimwalt was hell-bent on making life miserable for any Gryffindor he came across. Headmistress McGonagall thought that he was a perfect replacement because he had great references and credentials. He wasn't, however, as much of a hit with the students. Even the Slytherins. He wasn't the easy-going man Snape had been with them. He actually made them work. Of course, he never took points away from the Slytherin house, which was a privilege he left only for the Gryffindors.

"What?" Had he been telling them something important? She hadn't really been paying attention. Lavender was motioning from behind Dimwalt towards the board. On it were notes on the project. "Oh, sorry, professor. Won't happen again."

"It'd better not, Miss Granger. But just as an incentive, five points from Gryffindor." Lavender shot Hermione a scathing look. "Now, as I was saying. The first thing you are to do for this project is summarize the origin, uses, proper procedure for making the potion, and results of the potion (including effects, colors, thickness, etc.). Two, make the potion and test it on a specimen, to be provided later. Three, provide a detailed explanation of why you chose this particular potion. The summary and the explanation essay should both be two feet long. This project is due in two months. We will begin on it after Christmas Break. Understood?"

"Yes, Professor." The class intoned.

Great, Hermione thought. Another project for her to remember the great times she and Ron had had while working on some useless assignment or another. She'd miss him screwing everything up and procrastinating, that was for sure.

"..Marvel, Crick, Thompson, and Patil," Dimwalt was saying. "Okay, last group. Crabbe, Goyle, Malfoy and Granger." Much to the three Slytherins' surprise, she offered no protest. She didn't notice their looks of disdain and Malfoy's disgusted eye roll. "Please choose your potions by the end of class. Copies of the books, if you have otherwise misplaced yours, are on my desk. Don't damage them, or you will be seriously reprimanded. You have ten minutes. GO!"

Void of emotion, she retrieved a copy of the book and went to the desks of her partners. After complete silence, while paging though the battered book, she voiced her opinion. "I think we should do the Self-Healing Potion. It's the least complicated, it has a lot of history, and it's easy enough for all of us to make with out screwing it up. Okay?"

Her monotonous tone surprised Malfoy, who didn't quite like any sort of surprise. "Fine. You're the boss."

Her face didn't change. "Okay. Meet me in the library after dinner, so we can start researching. The Potions section."

Crabbe and Goyle shook their heads, looking much like bobble-head dolls.

"We'll be there." Malfoy replied.

Hermione sat at their table until the bell for next class rang. It was seven minutes of pure silence. She didn't take care to notice that her three partners were staring at her queerly. They didn't want to say anything. Or couldn't rather, because her actions stunned them.

She took the quiet time to kill Malfoy in her mind. Place him in Ron's place instead of being alive. Why couldn't it have been him who was mercilessly taken from this world? He was the one who tried to kill Dumbledore. Even in the Committee for the Deranged found him innocent, he was still a black soul. He didn't deserve to be here with Ron dead. He deserved to be the one rotting in a grave. She silently fumed.

On the outside she looked vacant. Her eyes bore into the table and it seemed as if they would catch the rock-hard wood on fire if they were put up to it. Her face was devoid of everything. She had a yellow pallor to her skin and her lips looked as if they had never smiled before and may never again.

Malfoy was simply amazed. She was nothing like the girl that had been there sixth year. He could say the same for himself. She must have loved Weasel very much to have been this affected by his death. He almost felt sorry for her…almost. But for the rest of the class he watched her. She didn't move and inch the entire time. Crabbe and Goyle, bless their hearts, were confused. They didn't understand why the mudblood was here.

When the much awaited bell rang and students filed out, Professor Dimwalt called out to them demanding, "I want a summary of the four Healing Chapters on Monday! It must be at least thirteen inches long."

Hermione sighed violently and hitched her satchel higher up onto her shoulder. It was dinner time and she wasn't hungry. She decided to get an early start on her Potions homework. She might as well; she had no one to hang out with and no plans for the evening. She made her way to the library, dodging the concerned glances from her peers. She trudged to the back of the library and took a seat near the Potions section in a secluded table.

It took the trio of Slytherins five minutes to find her. They'd gone all through the Potions section she was located all the way in the back of it. "Finally," said Crabbe.

Hermione looked up from her notes. "Oh, it's you. Well, sit down. Don't just stand around the table like a bunch of statues."

They took seats around the circular table all three of them looking a little bit confused. The mountains of books on the table frightened them. It seems as if she had done quite a bit of work already so that was a major plus.

She began to speak without looking up as they sat down, "I've already looked up the origin and procedure for making the potion. It's pretty basic, as I have stated, and it takes a minimal amount of time to make which is a bonus. I am going to need you three to look through these books here," she indicated the three stacks in front of her, "and find out the projected effects and uses. We can check the effects later, of course, but I like to thorough."

"Okay, Granger." Malfoy said. And because Malfoy said it Crabbe and Goyle did as told.

Not counting the couple times one of them had a question, the studying time was quiet and uneventful. Hermione was for the greater part of the time, silent. Both Crabbe and Goyle, astonishingly, were working hard. She got the impression that they were slow readers. In two hours time they were all yawning hard and could barely keep their drooping eyelids open. Malfoy suggested that they all go to sleep. "Right, mate, let's get some sleep. From the looks of this damn project, for the next couple of weeks, we're going to need it."

Hermione only nodded her acceptance and didn't even watch them leave. Malfoy paused for a moment, at the end of the book shelves to look back at the mudblood. She had her nose in the book and was scribbling something furiously on a piece of parchment. Her eyes were still vacant and didn't hold the expression of delight that they had once held at the sight of books.

She saw Malfoy staring at her as he made his way out of the library. She paid no mind to that. He was probably just surprised that she hadn't tried to make some nasty comment. The whole time he was sitting there, with his smirking eyes and beating heart, she was trying to suppress the rage that was hidden inside her.

If they all only knew what was going on inside her mind.

* * *

_So how do you like it? _

**Fate**


	2. Chapter Two

Where the Fault Lies

Chapter Two

Mystress Fate

_**Disclaimer**: This is not mine. Is property of J.K. Rowling._

Hermione spent most of the nights after Ron's death sleepless and staring at the ceiling late into the hours of darkness, remembering all the things about him. She would try to fall asleep, and almost succeed, but at the last moment, something would remind her of him and she would once again be lost. She was now a week ahead of schedule because she tried to divert her attention to something else by working on her assignments.

Most of her classmates had stopped trying to talk to her. They didn't like to be around her. She'd even heard herself be called the human dementor because she seemed to take all the life and joy out of everything. She thought that was ironic. She couldn't even feel anything like life or joy. It was no never mind to her that no one would talk to her. She hadn't been in the mood for conversation in the longest time.

The only thing that was a somewhat of a trial to her was Dimwi-walt's project. She had exhausted most of her time helping and showing the idiots Crabbe and Goyle how to properly research and format an essay for their parts of the project. At least while she was with them, working, she got her mind off of Ron for the time being. Sometimes, however, she would get caught up in a memory of red hair or stupid laughs. She would think she'd seen someone resembling Ron and the memory would just float over her. Goyle or Crabbe, and sometimes even Malfoy would have to shake her out of these reveries. In these moments, Malfoy would usually look at her strangely or offer a nasty comment. Hermione ignored him for the most part.

One morning, two weeks after Dimwalt assigned his project, Hermione caught two Ravenclaw girls staring at her, and whispering. She gave them a hard look, and continued eating.

Everyone had been doing that a lot lately. Whispering. Looking. Watching. Only a couple feet away, people would point to her as if she were a laughing stock at the zoo. They tried to do it when they thought she wouldn't see. She did see. She just didn't care.

After leaving the Great Hall to escape the Ravenclaw girls, and any others that saw fit to stare at her, she walked outside by the lake to think and try as she might to relax. She opened the doors to the exit of the castle and began the trek down to the lake. The sun was still shining and although it was chilly, it wasn't snowing badly enough for her to need a lot of extra clothing.

She found a perch under a great big tree close to the water. She leaned up against its base and just looked. The water was nice and the sun made its surfaces sparkle. There were kids milling about and a stray owl or two flying two and fro from the Owlrey. Her mind began to wander.

What was she going to do? How was she expected to _cope _with this? This guilt and fear and loss? She knew that she shouldn't be wallowing in self-pity. But how was anyone supposed to deal with something like this? No one had any answers for her. No one knew exactly what to say to help her. She was as alone as if she were to jump into the sea.

Depressed with that thought, she began to study the people on the grounds, trying in vain to find some source of happiness. She saw a girl, alone studying. She looked like she was in first year. Hermione could tell. She looked stressed out, amazed, and still a tad bit awed by all of the things that Hogwarts had to offer.

Hermione had to look away. Her eyes traveled to a group of guys, laughing a frog that had been charmed to fly. The frog had two, very light green colored wings and was flapping them frantically to stay in the air. That's what I feel like, Hermione thought, trying my best to stay with everything but with each second I feel like I'm falling faster.

A mixed group of people were playing a game with an old, battered, makeshift Quaffle. They were throwing it around, trying to keep it from the two people in the middle. It reminded Hermione of Monkey in the Middle. The only difference was that the children were using their wands to try move the ball back and forth. It made her smile vaguely, the first time in weeks, as she saw the two in the middle try fruitlessly to gain the ball.

Her next subjects were two people. A couple, nonetheless. They were bickering. She couldn't watch. It hurt too much.

She heaved a sigh and put her head into her hands. Why couldn't she even _look_ at people without being unhappy? Even seeing her parents together had been hard on her. It stung to see them smiling at each other or stealing a kiss. Of course they were shocked by their daughters change in attitude. But they tried their best to understand. They were really nice parents. She loved them.

She vowed right then and there to try and get better and to try and be happy.

But it didn't last long before she noticed the same two Ravenclaws that had been staring at her at breakfast earlier had made the transition to a spot not to far from Hermione. They were repeating their earlier bit of staring and whispering.

At the sight of the girls, Hermione snapped. She jumped to her feet and stormed across the lawn towards them. They were frozen to their spot.

She was furious. Why can't they just leave her alone? Why do they have to keep _staring _at her? Can't they see how much pain she was in?

The two girls were standing under a tree that wasn't too far from Hermione's. As she neared their place by the lake the sound of her fast paced heartbeat reached her ears and everything but it was drowned out. Her fingers rolled into fists and her knuckles turned white. The metaphorical steam was blowing out of her ears.

The two girls stood frozen in their boots, sweaters and mittens. Apparently they believed a little cold would kill them. When she stood not a half a meter away, Hermione exploded.

"What is your _problem_?"

At her voice the girls flinched slightly. Both of them were obviously very disturbed by the 'human dementors' unusual behavior. One, she was blonde with bright blue eyes and perfect body, was obviously the more confident of the two because she cocked a little attitude. "Actually," Miss Attitude said, oozing condescension, "that's what Julia and I were wondering."

Julia winced a little at the mention of her name and a blush spread up her neck and bathed her cheeks red. The red clashed with the orange of her hair and made the splash of freckles on her nose stand out. "I-I'm sorry, Her-her-moine. Really. I'm so sorry. I-I have t-to work on the P-Potions project. B-Bye."

She began to walk towards the castle but not before her friend stopped her with an arm. "Wait, Julia, we had something to ask Hermione, remember?"

Julia, at that moment, looked like she wanted nothing more than _not _to ask Hermione anything. She stayed rooted to her spot, nonetheless.

Miss Attitude began to proceed with the question they had been thinking about since lunch. Hermione wasn't having it.

"I'm sorry," Hermione began, "but I really don't have time for your 'questions'. I'm sorry that your life doesn't have enough interesting happenings to keep your quaint little minds occupied. If you want to delve into my life and my pain, do so, but do it on your own time, and without gawking at me like I've just risen from the dead. I don't need your pity or your sympathy. I'm having a hard enough time as it is dealing with everything. I don't need all of you pretending like you care or being rude and obnoxious because you think you know what's going on with me. Leave. Me. Alone."

With the last three words she yelled the whole gathering of people who had silently snuck around to see what the commotion was, collectively jumped. Julia gasped and clapped a hand over her mouth, extremely embarrassed at the whole situation. Miss Attitude bared her teeth and prepared for a fight.

Hermione's shoulders slumped and the passion died out of her. "Leave me alone," she whispered. "Just leave me alone." Her voice was as soft as a breeze on a light summer's day and only Miss Attitude and Julia heard it. Hermione left the girls, the crowd, and herself very puzzled.

She struggled to control herself as she fought her way through the crowds in the Great Hall. She was headed for her dormitory for a little solace.

Her mind caught up with her whirling emotions she didn't hear her named called. A hand snaked out and grabbed her arm. It shook a startled, "What?!?" out of her.

Malfoy didn't react but said with a calm, expressionless face, "It's time to go to Potions, Granger. We need you there to help with the project." His eyes were grey and seemed to storm. A ghost of his former smirk graced his lips. "Gryffindor can't afford to lose any more points."

She'd completely forgotten about classes. That wasn't like her. But since Ron's death, she hadn't really _been _like her at all. She took a couple moments to pull herself together. A couple deep breaths and she glanced acidly at Malfoy. "I'll be there in a minute."

She didn't give him a chance to respond and walked away. _That should have been Ron_, she thought furiously to herself. _He should be the one holding me back from chewing out the Ravenclaw girls and reminding me, if I had ever forgotten, to go to Potions class. _Sadness sparked, renewed, in her eyes.

Draco couldn't believe what he'd seen the little Granger do. When he heard the commotion coming from a place near the castle he, being the uninterested person that he was, didn't go closer to investigate. That is until he heard a familiar voice yelling at the crowd. It was only then that he drew closer.

It was the second most shocking thing in his life to see Granger standing surrounded by people and yelling at the bitchiest girl attending Hogwarts. He had stood coolly in the back of the crowd and surveyed the semi-breakdown of the Gryffindor girl. The whispers in the crowd told him that everyone had been expecting it. There had even been a bet placed on how long it would take Hermione to finally crush on the pressure of Ron's death.

He wondered if she felt as hopeless as he did.

_Thanks to _

Shatteredxrememberances  
xlalal0ve

SoMe wEirDo

kimisroomate

_**Update: **I'm going to start writing during the week as much as I can and updating sometime near the weekends. (I'm working on Ch. Three's outline at this very moment!) I appreciate all of the reviews and everyone who has read my fic. See you this weekend!_


	3. Chapter Three

Where the Fault Lies

Chapter Three

Mystress Fate

_**Disclaimer**: This is not mine. Is property of J.K. Rowling._

* * *

Hermione could feel the class gawking at her as she entered the Potions classroom. She knew she looked as weary as she felt. Her encounter with the Ravenclaw girls, and the whole yelling debacle thereafter, zapped her of all the strength and resolve she had stored. Not that there was that much left anyway. She felt, walking to her seat, like everything kept bringing her down. She tried, dear Merlin did she try, to move one. It just seemed like there was always something in her way, stopping her from getting over Ron. Was she not supposed to? Was she going to be mourning this loss for the rest of her life? Was the only happiness she was to experience lost? Will she never again feel the joy that she felt when with him?

She closed her mind off, trying to erase it of these thoughts. There is no way, she told herself, that I'll be able to focus on the project unless I calm down. She took a couple deep, cleansing breaths and kept walking past all of the staring Hogwarts students to her regular seat. She consoled herself with the fact that her incident would soon be forgotten once they found something else to chatter about.

"Miss Granger," Dimwalt shouted. "Kindly take your seat with the rest of your project mates. Have you, once again, not heard a word that I've been saying?"

Hermione blushed and shook her head solemnly after pausing. She hadn't even thought of the project or Malfoy and his reminder until the Professor mentioned it.

Dimwalt, quite channeling his predecessor, sneered and said maliciously, "Mr. Malfoy, if you would kindly collect your partner, I'd like to begin my lessons."

"Mudblood," he smirked, "we're over here."

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were in the farthest desk back from the front of the room. Surrounding them were other Slytherins and their partners. They'd chosen this location specifically because it was on the opposite side of the Gryffindors as well as Professor Dimwalt's desk. The corner were they were situated was heavily shrouded in shadows and it struck Hermione that the shadows suited what the whole Slytherin gang portrayed.

She made her way to the back of the room as Professor Dimwalt began his lecture. He instructed them to take out their notes, so far, on their Healing Potion project. Seated across from Malfoy, who was next to Goyle, and by Crabbe, Hermione fervently hoped the other three had compiled some halfway decent observations on their project. The notes that she took out of her satchel were extremely organized, almost obsessively, and presented a well thought out, and orderly task.

Hermione made a point of looking over the Slytherin's notes before Dimwalt made his way to them and was mildly accepting of their effort. Crabbe and Goyle's effort were as they were to be expected. Somewhat sloppy and disorganized, they were as good as she could have hoped for. What surprised her, however, were Malfoy's. Surprisingly, they were almost, if not equal to, Hermione's own set.

Mildly interested, Hermione waited for Dimwalt to inspect theirs. He stated that they were acceptable. When finished checking each group, Dimwalt returned to the front of the classroom behind his podium and more notes appeared on the board behind him.

"We will now review a few more types of healing spells," he began. "Those that we are learning today will be gash, shot, fight, and burn healing. These sections begin on page 555 of your text. Go through and take notice of each of these. Turn in a copy of your notes on these by the end of class. Begin!"

For Hermione, since the beginning of this year, she goes into a different world when doing monotonous work like this. She drifts off and goes on auto-pilot where she does the work, but at the same time she's in another world. She could recite to you, almost verbatim, every word she writes, but she isn't necessarily focused on it. Most of the time, her thoughts drift to Ron.

Draco watched Hermione's eyes gloss over while silently sneaking glances at her. Of course he was still completely infuriated by her entire presence, that fact hadn't changed. But now he had to, for the most part, hide this revulsion. After renouncing his position as a Death Eater to the Ministry of Magic, he was told not to speak with any follower or anyone else affiliated with Voldemort. He did so, not because of his father or any pressing shred of moral fiber, but because he refused to be the type of person he had become. He didn't want the life his father had laid for him. He didn't want to be a servant or a murderer. He was still an avid mudblood hater, and he absolutely _loathed _blood traitors, he just didn't feel the need to murder all of them.

What was so captivating about her now, he wondered.

This train of thought was interrupted for the time being when it was time to leave for class. All the students rose to leave except for Hermione.

"Granger," he said softly, almost whispering.

It seemed enough to shake her out of her reverie because she jerked at the sound of his voice. Her eyes lost their glazed look when she glanced at him. "What?" Her voice was hoarse and velvety sounding. It stirred something in the pit of Draco's stomach.

He shook it off. "Class is over, mudblood. I need to know when you next want to work on the project."

She didn't acknowledge the insult and instead collected her things silently. "You guys have a free period after lunch, correct?"

"Yes."

"Okay, then. Meet me at the table an hour after lunch. We should be able to get the brunt of the work done tonight. That way we have most of Christmas break to relax. The project is due two weeks after everyone returns, so that means we can polish off whatever we have left."

He thought this sounded kosher to him and agreed. His eyes followed her as she left the classroom. He followed silently after her.

* * *

Lunch hour always posed a dilemma for Hermione these days. Her fellow Gryffindors were unsure of how to handle her dramatic change in demeanor. For the most part, she liked to wait until the majority of people had left the tables and gone to their next class to eat. This usually ran into her free period and gave her some alone time. Today, because of her meeting with Malfoy and the others, she had to eat lunch at the regular time. And with her fellow House members.

The Gryffindor table was crowded usually crowded and today was no exception. It didn't take her much determining to realize that the only empty seat was next to Ginny Weasley. She couldn't believe her luck. Hermione heaved a great sigh and sat down next to the love of her life's sister.

Ginny turned to the person who sat down next to her and beamed. The smile faultered when she realized who it was. "H-hi Hermione." Her voice shook. "What brings you here?"

"I'm eating lunch, Ginny." Was the terse reply. Hermione didn't know what it was that made her dislike Ginny so much these days. It didn't seem as if the youngest Weasley was that keen on talking to her as well.

"Well I suppose you are." There was a lengthy pause before Ginny could think of something else to say. "How are you with your classes, Hermione?"

Ah, Hermione thought, let the perfunctory questions begin. "There okay. Quite tough, as usual, but nothing I can't handle. How about you? How's sixth year treating you?"

Why did this whole conversation sound mechanical to her ears? The questions were so forced and neither party was truly interested in the answers. It seemed as though they thought it would make things like they used to be.

Ginny gave a small, shaky smile. "It's going okay. The classes were as hard as you always said they were going to be, but I'm doing okay. How are your marks?"

"They're really good. Some could improve and I'm working on it."

"Stupid question.." Ginny said. "I should have known."

They shared a small smile. For a moment it seemed like everything was back to normal.

It didn't last long. They slipped into an awkward silence where neither of them really knew what to say. Each of them sat for a few quiet, uncomfortable moments while they tried to dredge up a few words to distill the quiet.

One of Ginny's friends asked her a question, and she got drug into a conversation. Her voice lifted and her movements became animated as she told some story about the twins doing a practical joke. Hermione watched her somewhat jealously. She wondered how Ginny was dealing with Ron's death. She'd never really asked because the subject was still too fresh to probe. She figured it was the same way with Ginny.

Since school started the two girls have kept a friendly distance from each other, talking only when it was necessary or when the situation, such as today, called for it. They both seemed to benefit from this relationship and they were okay with leaving it that way until they could settle their differences.

Towards the end of lunch, after having no more conversation between Ginny and Hermione, the afternoon post came in. A large, graceful white owl, Harry's, Hermione surmised, swooped down and delivered a letter that landed softly on Hermione's clean plate. After nipping softly at her fingers, Hedwig flew out.

The arrival of the letter knocked Hermione out of her daydreams and it took her a few moments to recollect where she was. It was Harry's sloppy scrawl on the envelope that snapped her out of it. When realizing this, she bursts out of her seat, grabs her bag, and flees the Great Hall.

Her heart beats faster with each step that she takes towards the library. When arriving, she decides to go ahead to the table she'll be meeting Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle at, because there are twenty minutes until they will arrive. She places her bag on the table and gathers her wits. With a few deep breaths she opens the envelope. Her heart nearly stops when she begins to read.

_Dear Hermione,_

_I'm sorry that this letter is reaching you so late. The Ministry Aurors and I have been fast on the trail of the few remaining Death Eaters. I'm happy to say that there are very few left at this time. We are very close to finally ridding the world of this scum. I'll be at the Burrow during Christmas Break if you want to come there for the holidays. _

_I know that your seventh year is probably going fantastic! I really miss you, and I apologize again for having to do this and leave you there. I'll try to write more often to keep you updated. My correspondence courses with McGonagall have been rough, seeing as I barely have time to work, but I keep hearing you tell me to do it anyway. _

_I miss you a lot Hermione and hope that I get to see you at Christmas holiday. I have to go now, Tonks is calling me, they have an update on Nott. _

_Be Happy. _

_Harry_

_P.S. I hope to hear from you soon. _

She missed Harry in that moment more than she had all semester. Hermione could tell that he was struggling with his work, trying to do the right thing, and grieving for his best friend. He was trying to do it all. She just wished that this once he could be there for _her _instead of the whole world. She needed him too. The Gryffindor kicked in at that moment. She sighed. She couldn't take him away from that. She could handle this on her own.

But oh how she missed him. A deep anguish rose up in her for all of the moments they would miss this year. All of the memories that they won't make now. She hoped that, in the end, they could somehow bridge this gap.

A single tear escaped and she sniffled a little. She lay her head on her folded hands and lost herself for a while in the grief. She didn't cry, but lamented in the memories.

An eternity later the sound of someone clearing their throat interrupted her thoughts. She whipped around, wiping a tear off her cheek, to see who it was.

Draco Malfoy stood leaning against a bookshelf looking unreadable.

Hermione glared furiously at him. She felt like he caught her naked. "Where is Crabbe and Goyle?" She asked, when she noticed that he was lacking his lackeys.

"They got sick off of pumpkin juice and went to the Common Room to rest."

Malfoy takes a seat near Hermione without saying one insulting thing. He pulls out his work and a few books and diligently sets to figuring out the reasons for their project.

For some reason, she feels comfortable in his presence. When realizing this, she reprimands herself. How can she be comfortable around the Ferret? This is the guy who tormented her for her whole career at Hogwarts. Just give it up, she told herself. She relaxed somewhat and they worked silently together for the night.

* * *

_Six pages!!!! That's a record. I'm so proud of myself. Give me cookies. _

_I hope that you enjoy this. Let me know please. Reviews are cherished._

_Happy Thanksgiving to you all!_

_-Mystress Fate_


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